


we lapped up those days which seemed forever endless

by dustkeeper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Episode Duscae, Episode Ignis Verse 2, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, brotherhood era, meteor showers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustkeeper/pseuds/dustkeeper
Summary: A collection of prompts from my Tumblr about Ignis, Noctis, and the possibilities between them. Tags updated with each work.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 35
Kudos: 43





	1. shooting star

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on Tumblr!  
> summonernoctis.tumblr.com

Nova Mirus’s father used to joke that when they named her in the hospital room, she heard it, and from then on believed herself to be a star. She’d gaze up out her window from the lowest altitude of Tenebrae, past the floating rock formations that looked like the craters in her astronomy books, and map the constellations she could make out in the darkness with her pinky finger. Even as her whimsical picture books were replaced with thick, picture-less academic textbooks, her wonder at the stars burned as bright as the balls of gas and dust ever twinkling above.

Her parents were thrilled with the scholarship she earned at the Insomnia University shortly before graduating high school. They were less than thrilled about their inability to travel there with her, but Nova promised them she would send plenty of photos of the Duscaen meteor shower, a detour they were certain she was more excited about than the actual scholarship. “You’ll be meeting your real family,” her father joked, even as his wife had to pry their daughter out of his arms so she could make the train.

Although it was a full scholarship, transportation was not paid for, and the family of three scraped together every spare gil they could to send her over the seas and across the continent. Nova rented the cheapest chocobo she could ride on and stretched her food portions as far as she could, picking up odd jobs around the Coernix Stations to help her along. She was often hungry and cold in the slightly-torn tent her neighbor had lent her, but she didn’t mind that much. The worst part to her was the silence. She used to be so angry at the floating rocks outside her window for blocking her view of the stars, but as she sat on the edge of her haven, the expanse of night sky stretching to every point of the horizon, she felt so exposed.

As the first star streaked across the sky, Nova wished that she wouldn’t feel this loneliness in her new home.

“Excuse me,” Votum Scientia said from the other side of the haven. Nova turned, bracing herself to have to fight off the intruder, who was a disheveled twig of a man who looked like he was ready to run if she so much as made a fist with her hand.

He offered a shaky smile. “Do you mind if I watch the meteor shower with you? This was the only haven I could find on such short notice. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” 

* * *

“Do you think…” Ignis bit his lip. “You’re the prince, so people give you what you want sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Noct grumbled, ripping up a clump of grass to toss across the Citadel garden. “ _Sometimes_.” The seven year-old was still a bit sore that his Uncle Clarus wouldn’t let him slide down the stairs in the throne room on his shield, which looked like it would be almost as fun as the sledding in the Yuletide movie he’d seen on TV. Instead, the two children were relocated so they wouldn’t be in the way of “visiting dignities” or whatever-they-were-called, so their nanny took them outside.

“Do you think you could ask your dad if we could go visit the Duscaen Meteor Shower sometime? It’s scheduled to happen every twelve to thirteen years, around springtime…” Ignis trailed off, wringing his usually-tucked shirt tail in his clammy hands.

Noct’s irritation was suspended by his curiosity. “Probably. If enough adults come with us. Why?”

His friend seemed a little embarrassed. Maybe it was private and he shouldn’t have asked ̶ like how his dad told him it was rude to ask why Cor didn’t want to kiss anybody.

“Well, my parents met when they went to see it. My mum said she wished for a friend, and my dad showed up,” Ignis explained. “She said that anything you wish for can come true, as long as you’re willing to meet it halfway. So I assume that means we’d have to travel to see the meteor shower if we want our wishes to come true.”

“Really?” Noctis grabbed his hand, practically falling into his lap in his excitement. “You could wish for anything, and it’d come true? Then of _course_ Dad’s gotta let us go! We can wish for all kinds of things! Do you get a wish for every star, or is it just one?”

“I don’t know,” his friend stammered, struggling to keep the two of them from falling back into the dirt, “I don’t know the rules, but I believe there would be a limit.”

“Kings make the rules, though, right? When I’m king, I’ll make it so there are no limits. We can wish for as many things as we want!”

“But what if mean people wish for things?” Ignis asked. “We’d be wishing forever just to stop them.”

“Awwww. Okay, just how many stars fall then.” Noctis pouted. “But it only happens every once in a while, right? So they’ll have to be really good wishes!”

* * *

“Any idea of what you’ll wish for?”

“Easy—more wishes.”

Ignis chuckled. “Of course. I should have known.”

Noctis grinned. “What about you, Specs? What will you wish for?”

“Ah, and here is where your plan has failed: if I tell my wish, if won’t come true.”

“Gahhh,” his companion groaned. “This is why you’re the advisor and I’m not.”

“Among other reasons,” Ignis said with a rather self-satisfied smirk.

“You better not be wishing for more Ebony.”

“Well… I’m not _now_.”

But as Ignis stood next to the same haven where his parents met, watching the stars fall across the empty expanse of Duscaen sky, one wish escaped his heart.

_Please… keep us safe. Keep Noctis safe. Let him see his kingdom rebuilt, and a long life, and all the love and happiness he deserves._

The stars listened.


	2. you weren't there... why weren't you there?

**Noct** : _so here i was, suffering through calculus class_  
 **Noct** : _my only hope being my chamberlains word that he would be waiting @ home with tarts_  
 **Noct** : _you weren’t there…why weren’t you there?_ ☹

**Ignis** : _suck_

Noctis frowned at the phone in his hands, flummoxed. Ignis never texted anything that couldn’t be designated a full sentence in the Lucian language, let alone without proper punctuation and capitalization. It was also unlike him to say that anything “sucked”—usually, he’d phrase it in some poetic, drawn-out burn, like “The amount of quotations in this essay leads me to wonder if you’ve ever had an original thought of your own floating in that abysmal abyss you call your head” or something. Either Ignis was so sufficiently distracted by whatever kept him from showing up at Noct’s apartment that he had forgone his entire manner of texting, or he was too sick or injured too care.

The “u” and “i” keys were right next to each other, too.

Putting two-and-two together, he wasted no time in putting his shoes back on and slinging his bag over his shoulder. While Ignis preferred to use his car to drive him everywhere so he could have it available, he only lived a half hour walking distance from Noct’s apartment complex. He’d also given Noct his own spare key in case of emergencies, but he figured Ignis would prefer knocking beforehand.

“Specs? You in there?”

He heard what seemed to be a human voice from the other side of the wall, but he couldn’t make out what was said. After a minute of silence and deliberation, he used the key and slipped inside. The lights were off, though the afternoon sun shone through the thin curtains in Ignis’s living room. He could see his advisor’s suede black business shoes resting atop the arm of his couch. Worry clenched his chest; if Ignis hadn’t taken off his shoes before settling onto the couch, he must have been really sick.

“You okay in here?” Noctis asked.

“Highness,” a voice that sounded like Ignis in toad status called back. Noctis circled the couch to see his friend spread out across the couch that was too short for his tall form, hair and suit disheveled. A lone handkerchief was crumpled in his hand, an indication of his mediocre self-care efforts. He frowned behind lopsided glasses. “I told you not to come in.”

“All I heard was—” Noct did his best impression of a garula with a stomach ache.

Ignis apparently felt good enough to roll his eyes, but it lacked the usual amount of ire. Noctis stepped closer to place a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up, man.”

For a moment, he seemed to lean into his touch, then suddenly his eyes widened comically. “No. Shoo! Begone!” Ignis smacked the hand away, turning onto his side so he could bury his face into the couch cushions. His next words were therefore muffled and incomprehensible. And this was the man who said _Noctis_ was childish when he got sick. The prince was torn between amusement and genuine fear for his friend’s health.

He leaned over to tug at Ignis’s shoes, only to be alarmed when his usually firm-but-polite advisor tugged his feet away and kicked at him weakly, more muffled yelling coming from the cushions.

“Really, Specs?” Noctis said, appropriating the Disappointed Royal voice he often heard from his dad for the occasion. “Assaulting your prince?”

Ignis’s face emerged from the couch to glare at him. “As I’ve been _trying_ to say, you’ll catch my illness if you continue to linger in my apartment. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“You didn’t even take your shoes off,” Noctis protested, fondly exasperated. “You expect me to believe you took medicine before trying to fuse with your couch?”

The glare continued. The lack of response was telling enough.

“Yeah, thought so. Now let me take your shoes off, and tell me where you keep the medicine before I empty all the cabinets in your kitchen.”

Ignis’s attempt to sigh came out as a small series of coughs. His feet went lapse from their struggle in Noct’s hands. “Bottom cabinet, second to the right of the fridge.”

“Thanks.” He yanked the shoes off, taking care to go discard them in a neat fashion in the entryway instead of the haphazard toss he’d do to his own at home.

“No, thank _you_.” Ignis sounded exhausted. “Apologies, I… I’m out of sorts.”

Putting it mildly, Noctis thought, crouching down to sort through the medicine bottles in the cabinet. Whenever he had to force-feed cold medicine to Noct, he swore by Esunaquil, so he grabbed a bottle of the red liquid and a water bottle from the fridge.

A loud cough echoed through the room, followed by a groan.

“Oh, I’m more than out of sorts. I am gross, I am covered in filth, I am disgusting—”

“You’re sick. You’re human,” Noctis corrected him on his way back from the kitchen.

“I have a proposal to revise by Wednesday afternoon, an email to send to your principal about the change in security…” Ignis had one hand pressed against his forehead.

“Not to mention the tarts you said you’d make,” Noctis added dryly.

“The tarts,” Ignis repeated, much more serious about their absence than his prince intended.

“You can take care of that stuff later. For now, let me take care of you.” He offered his advisor the bottle of cold medicine.

The older teen took the bottle with great reluctance. “A decree by my prince?”

“Yeah.” If only it worked that way, Noctis mused silently.

Ignis held the medicine far enough from his face so that he could read the label as he did everything in Noct’s opinion: long and careful, as if his ancestor hid some great historical secret hidden between the words. Dissatisfied, his arm slumped onto his stomach, and he turned to look at Noctis with sorrow. “Alas, my capabilities do not allow me to measure two tablespoons without the appropriate utensil.”

“How the hell are you this articulate when you’re sick?”


	3. in a vehicle + first date

“I don’t believe these seats were made for relaxation,” Ignis said, struggling to find the seat lever in the driver’s seat.

“We should have stolen a limo instead,” Noctis agreed.

“We haven’t _stolen_ anything,” Ignis corrected him. “We’ve merely appropriated a project from the Citadel mechanic to evaluate their shop’s efficiency. We’ve even refueled them for the trouble.”

Ignis grinned over at him, eyes glinting with the mischief he’d loved so much when they were just kids terrorizing the Crownsguard with their escape acts. Noctis was pretty sure he looked just as unbecomingly giddy for a sixteen-year-old Crown Prince, especially when his advisor pulled his seat level and lurched backward into a near-horizontal position.

Ignis’s laugh sounded like it had been punched out of his stomach, and Noctis could barely contain his own incredulous humor as he twisted in his seat to check on him. “You okay, Speccy?”

His date fixed his glasses, shoulders shaking in laughter. “No,” he gasped out. “I appear to have fallen for you.”

Noctis threw his head back with an exaggerated groan, fingers digging into the headrest of his seat.

“In all seriousness, Noct,” but his voice trembled with mirth, “The lever seems to be stuck.”

“Guess we should have known, stealing a car from the shop.”

“ _Borrowing_ a Crownsguard vehicle under a royal emergency, as is His Highness’s right,” Ignis corrected, tugging at the recline lever to no avail.

“Uh huh,” Noctis said, unconvinced, watching his boyfriend struggle in amusement. “Need some help?”

He stopped jiggling the lever to peer up at the prince with a slightly pained expression. “Possibly.”

“I’m coming.” Noctis leaned over to tug his own seat’s mechanism and plummet to its lowest position. “Oomph.”

It was somehow just as hilarious the second time, and Noctis had to take a moment to compose himself before asking, “Are they supposed to go this far back?”

“I couldn’t say. The odds of both seats being broken are slim but not impossible.”

Noctis rolled over so he was resting on his back, then turned his head to meet Ignis’s flushed cheeks. Their noses could almost touch. “Hey.”

“Hello there,” Ignis replied, his smile softening. “I missed you for a moment there.”

Normally, Noctis would have rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment, but he found himself clumsily pressing his chapped lips against those of his date’s. When he pulled back, he felt even more flustered upon seeing the surprise in Ignis’s eyes. “Yeah.”

It was probably a terrible first kiss, but Ignis’s fingers reaching out to brush Noct’s bangs away from where they’d fallen over his eyes helped soothed his nerves, helping him instead focus on the pleasant warmth in his stomach. “Indeed.”


	4. "y'all are acting as if you haven't seen this before"

“Y'all are acting as if you haven’t seen this before.”

The advisor placed a hand on his hip as he stood outside the caravan, having just emerged from changing.

"Because we haven’t,“ Prompto said. "And no offense, dude, but that was the _worst_ accent I’ve ever heard.”

"Well, he has to be bad at something, I guess,“ Gladio conceded with a smirk.

Ignis sighed, taking the cap Dave had lent him off his head to run fingers through his ruffled hair. He wasn’t used to wearing hats, but then again, he also wasn’t used to any article of clothing he was wearing now, from the hunter’s tank top to the scarf tied around his neck. Yet, as the advisor to the Crown Prince was highly recognizable among the Niflheim Army with his usual attire of glasses, Crownsguard fatigues, and perfectly primped hair, Ignis had to properly disguise himself if they wanted to attain the information they needed.

His accent, unfortunately, made him even more identifiable, and so he tried in vain to mimic Cindy Aurum’s Leidan drawl.

"I don’t know what y'all are talkin’ about,” Ignis attempted the voice again, this time a few octaves higher in pitch. “Ah’m simply speaking like yer Miss Cindy, after all.”

"How dare you!“ Prompto cried. "Cindy has the voice of an angel! Not… whatever daemon’s trying to crawl out of your mouth!”

"Not to encourage Prince Charming over here,“ Gladio said, "but he’s got a point. Think you could manage just an Insomnian accent? It’s not as unusual as your usual, at least.”

Ignis spoke normally, “I suppose you’re right. What do you think, Noct?”

The prince, who Ignis would have anticipated jumping in on the banter by now, was silently staring at his outfit. Ignis glanced down at his clothes, hoping he hadn’t made any embarrassing error in putting them on. Everything _seemed_ in order.

"Noct?“ he tried again, a little louder.

Noctis startled out of his daze. "Oh. Uh… it looks good, Specs.”

If Ignis wasn’t already blushing at that, Gladio’s snort would have done it. “I don’t think His Highness’s opinion is going to help with this one.”

"Just try sounding like Noct,“ Prompto suggested. "I mean, you’ve known each other forever. You’ve gotta be an expert at copying his voice.”

Noct seemed a tad sheepish, so Ignis tried to rein the mockery in to the lightest of teasing. “Man, it’s hot!” Prompto was right: he did a fair job of recreating Noct’s voice. “Let’s go fishing! I could use a nap.”

Prompto cackled. “Ha ha! He’s totally got you down, Noct!” He elbowed his friend, who smiled despite his red cheeks.

"Naturally,“ he mimicked Ignis’s voice just as well, causing all four to dissolve into giggles.

"It’ll be good enough for Ignis to pose as a hunter at the blockade,” Gladio said. “If it all goes well, he shouldn’t have to talk for long.”

"The shorter I have to wear this scarf, the better,“ Ignis said, tugging at said accessory. "It’s beginning to itch, I’m afraid.”

"I’ll go tell Cor we’re ready,“ the Shield announced, heading towards the other side of Meldacio Outpost. Prompto sent a thumbs-up ̶ whether it was to Ignis or Noctis, the chamberlain wasn’t sure ̶ before following at his heels.

"You sure you’re up for this?” Noctis asked, stepping closer. “We’ll be right outside, but we won’t be able to follow you into the building.”

"I’ll be fine, so long as I don’t ever use a Leidan accent again,“ Ignis assured him, smiling. He did appreciate Noct’s concern. He felt comfort at the fact the prince wouldn’t be in the midst of the action for this plan, however: if his disguise fell through, at least Noct wouldn’t have a chance of getting hurt.

Noctis took the cap from his hand, and Ignis had the rare experience of feeling his bare fingers with his own, since his disguise didn’t call for gloves. "Here,” he said, placing the cap atop Ignis’s head. “You look good.”

"So you said,“ Ignis said, amused. "Thank you.”

Noctis turned to walk away, muttering softly, and Ignis could have sworn he was saying, “You should wear tank tops more often.”


	5. photo prompt: in the ice cavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue at the beginning taken directly from the game.

Given how hot it was in Lestallum, Ignis figured the nearby climate of Burbost Souvenir Emporium couldn’t be much cooler. As it turned out, in what one could only assume was a prank from the Astrals, the cave behind the waterfall Talcott had pointed out was literally covered in ice.

"Double back for our coats?“ Prompto suggested, the other member of their party to suffer from lack of a jacket. Noctis was sporting the new jacket he bought for himself at a trendy clothing shop back in town, and Gladio could probably make snow angels naked next to Shiva’s corpse and remain comfortable ̶ he didn’t only walk about shirtless to show off his abs, despite the other boys’ teasing. The poor man seemed to be stuck in an eternal hot flash. Unfortunately, Ignis, who usually lacked a problem with temperature, had left his coat in the car. He’d assumed that he’d be sweating right through it after the inevitable battles they’d face.

True to form, the Shield was unfazed by the unexpectedly cold climate. "What’s the point? Little chill won’t kill ya.”

Noctis glanced from Prompto, who wore a very thin vest over his tank top, to Ignis, who’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He seemed ready to offer his own opinion on the matter, but Prompto beat him to it.

"Well, looking at the bright side… Maybe the cold keeps the daemons at bay?“

Gladio sent a level look in the blond’s direction. "Yeah, because monsters like warmth.”

"Ah, sarcasm. Hmm… But what if they’re frozen?“ Prompto asked hopefully.

Gladio, experienced from scaring his younger sister with ghost stories around a campfire, was quick to respond, "Encased in ice… waiting for something warm to pass by.”

As if on cue, several Flans rose from the floor, their yellow eyes glowing ominously.

"And there’s our warm welcome.“ Prompto’s gun materialized in his hand. He fired a shot at the daemon Noct had already warped over to, and the cold was forgotten as Ignis rushed to cover his liege’s back.

The ensuing daemon battles on the way to the tomb only warmed the group just a tad, especially when they were forced to slide down a wall of ice that soaked through their jeans. None of them, jacket or no jacket, were dressed suitably for a winter wonderland.

Ignis’ teeth chattered as he rubbed his arms. He wasn’t even wearing his gloves, an oddity even despite their excursion into a cave covered in snow. He wasn’t aware Noctis had stopped walking until a jacket was thrust into his line of view.

"Here, Specs,” Noctis said. “You look like you could use the extra layer.”

While Ignis was touched by the offer, there was no way in this ice-encrusted hell that he would let his prince continue on in just a white T-shirt. “That’s very kind of you, Noct, but I’d feel much warmer knowing you weren’t in danger of dying from hypothermia.”

"C'mon, I’m fine,“ he insisted. "I’m hot, even.”

Although he secretly agreed with the statement, Ignis rolled his eyes. “I would hate for you to have to fan the flames of your ego to keep yourself warm.”

"I-I didn’t mean it like _that_!“ Noctis stammered awkwardly. He turned away to hastily tug the jacket back on, failing to hide the red on his cheeks that hadn’t come from the cold. "Fine. Last time I try being nice to you.”

Ignis smiled. The years of diplomacy training could do only so much for the bumbling, Behemoth-brand-wearing boy he proudly followed into freezing, dark caverns.

Some daemons groaned to life a few feet away, and Ignis instinctively slid over so he was back-to-back with the prince. “Pass me some of your ‘hotness’ and we can make quick work of these daemons.”

Noctis passed him a flask of fire elemancy along with an unimpressed expression. “I hate you,” he muttered without venom, then leapt into the fray.


	6. open your eyes + coming home

“Oof.”

  
“My bad, Iggy.”

  
“Well, this is what happens when the blind leads the blind, I suppose.”

  
Noct’s groan wasn’t as playful as Ignis was used to when making bad jokes. “Still too soon.”

  
“I’ve been blind for ten years, Noct,” he gently reminded him.

  
“Not for me,” he muttered, prompting his boyfriend to squeeze the hand he was holding. “Anyway,” he forced a lighter tone, “are we there yet? Can you… uh…”

  
Ignis had to stop himself from making another inappropriate jab at his lack of vision. “Patience, Your Majesty.”

  
“You know, it would be safer for both of us if you gave me a hint about where exactly it is we’re going… or if you let me take this blindfold off.”

  
“You’ll know it when you smell it.”

  
A beat of silence. “That's… That’s kinda ominous, Iggy.”

  
“Come, now,” his advisor chided, feeling a small set of steps in front of them with his cane. “Have I ever led you astray? Careful on the stairs.”

  
“There was that one time when I was six,” Noctis said as the two of them felt out the height of the steps. “You helped Cor convince me we were going fishing when we were actually on our way to the dentist’s office.”

  
The creak of a door opening came from a few inches in front of them. “Technically, I was still leading you on the right path. You simply didn’t know it.”

  
“I trusted you,” Noctis protested in a tone so plaintive Ignis couldn’t help but smile. “I was going to–wait… Is that…?”

  
“I told you you’d know it when you smelled it,” Ignis said.

  
“More like I heard it,” Noctis countered, tugging Ignis off-balance as he leaned down to reach for whatever was tapping its feet on the hardwood floor. He laughed. “Or felt it. Please tell me this isn’t a human tongue licking my hand.”

  
“Apologies. I simply can’t control myself around you,” Ignis joked, but he finally loosened the blindfold covering Noct’s eyes so he could see for himself. “You can open your eyes now.”

  
The king gasped. “No way! This is… oh, uh, good morning, ma’am.”

  
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” the amused voice of the animal shelter worker greeted from across the room.

  
A dog added his own greeting, and Ignis let go of Noctis so he could bend down to give it attention. “Hi there, little guy.” 

  
“That’s Milo,” the young woman introduced.

  
“Hey, Milo! Nice to meet you.” His baby voice returned to normal so he could address Ignis, but it retained the same wondrous edge. “Specs! I can’t believe it. This is the same shelter I used to work at? It looks even better now.”

  
“Welcome home,” Ignis said, fondly. 


End file.
